


Desperately Seeking the Doctor

by Basmathgirl



Series: The Peter Chronicles [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well what do you know? They run into each other again whilst Donna looks for the Doctor. This is a sequel to <b>Peter’s Little Fright in the Night</b>, so it helps to read that first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperately Seeking the Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> I was still aiming to own the DVD on Fright Night once it came out here when I wrote this; in the meantime all I owned were Doctor Who and Jonathan Creek DVDs. Oh, and a Sooty puppet.  
> Like the previous fic; if you’ve seen Fright Night you’ll know exactly what to expect from Peter Vincent. If you haven’t, let’s just say that there is swearing; a lot! In the words of a BBC announcement, “There is adult language from the start.”

His mind had kept wandering back to the ginger woman who had intruded in his home. That Donna was one fucking cheeky bitch! He knew he should have been highly angry with her, but instead he found he was highly amused still. So when he had gained the chance to find out where exactly she was staying he had taken it. What harm could it do after all? 

That was how he found himself in the lobby of her hotel trying to engineer a meeting. A particularly pert bottom caught his attention, and then his interest was boosted when above it hung some long, wavy, luxuriously ginger hair. “Excuse me, did you forget something?” he called out to her retreating back, and crossed his fingers in hope that he had picked the right woman.

She whirled round in confusion, but her face lit up in recognition. “Oh! Hello Mr Vincent. Nice jeans; makes a difference to your leather trousers,” she said and then looked at his hands as though she expected him to be holding something of hers.

Realising this, he waved his hands about to demonstrate how empty they were. Donna laughed and then swept her gaze around the lobby. “Where are the cameras? Is this for a TV special, or for private consumption?” She then eyed him up and down, “And why aren’t you dressed up in your stage costume? Are you branching out into street magic, or a new persona?”

“You ask a fuck load of questions!” he declared.

“It’s an art; I can’t explain it,” she smirked at him. “It also helps if you answer some of them.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked in return. “Although I’ll admit there are no cameras.”

“No cameras, huh? You must be slipping!” She beamed knowingly at him. “Since you’ve bothered to come and talk to me I assume you want something from me, so….” She waited for a reply from him patiently.

“Nothing! I just wondered what you were up to,” he said as nonchalantly as he could.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “Right,” she replied, drawing out the syllable. “Well, if you must know, I’m following a lead about a sighting near here about a strange luminescent creature.”

“It might be a fucking lizard in a hazard jacket,” he joked.

“It might be,” she agreed with a giggle. “But I have to go and find out. I can’t miss any opportunity.”

“You’re really eager to find this guy of yours, aren’t you?” he observed. “Why is this doctor so special?”

“Ooh diddums! Are you jealous?” she asked him in clearly mocking and teasing tones. “If you met him you wouldn’t need to ask me that. The Doctor took me back to the beginning of the Earth,” she told him, clearly in raptures about this bloke, “helped me see things in a whole new light and in the right perspective.”

Peter felt a surge of jealousy unaccountably jolt through him. “I can do amazing magic tricks,” he pointed out unhelpfully.

She smiled sympathetically at him, “I suppose you do, Sunshine; but he doesn’t resort to trickery. Doesn’t need to, you see.” Immediately she knew she had pushed his ego too far, so she reached out to place a consoling hand on his arm. “Not that you need to either,” she hastily added. “I’m sure you can be dazzling.” 

Why was she getting to him so fucking much? She oughtn’t be able to do this to him! He grabbed her arms. “Let me show you how I can be,” he heard himself almost beg; and he hated himself for it.

Donna snorted a tiny laugh. “Okay, magic boy. How are you at hunting possible aliens? I could do with someone telling me if it’s a trick, and if so, how the trick is done. You can be my Jonathan Creek, if you like,” she said, as though it was a brilliant prize.

“Are you fucking mad? Why would I want to do that?” he demanded.

“Ooh, my poor emo boy,” she crooned, playfully smoothing a hand down his cheek. “Don’t you know who he is?”

“Yes I fucking do! I had the DVDs sent over from England,” he bit back. “But I am the magician here, not the prop boy!”

“And there was me thinking you might have the intelligence to be Jonathan Creek,” Donna deliberately whined. She patted his cheek this time. “Never mind, I’ll get myself someone else.”

He took hold of her hand, removing it from his face; and through gritted teeth told her, “You don’t need anyone else. I am perfectly capable of seeing through a trick!”

“Oh good! You might earn your keep after all,” she replied. “Shall we discuss details over lunch? You’re buying.”

He found himself being led into the hotel restaurant almost against his will. Almost.

“Mr Vincent, please come this way!” the maître d’hôtel greeted them eagerly, and showed them to a secluded table.

Donna waited until the bloke left them on their own before observing, “I take you often bring women in here under cover of darkness. It must be weird for you to be seen like this. Who do you want me to pretend to be? Your cousin or your sister?”

He felt anger starting to rise again. “Fuck no!” he fumed. “You don’t have to pretend to be anyone… unless you particularly fancy a spot of role playing,” he had deliberately dropped his voice to sound as seductive as he possibly could. Let’s see her get out of that one!

“Saucy!” she declared, and took a sip of her glass of iced water. “Shame I don’t believe you are interested in that way; otherwise I’d have been tempted to take you up on the offer.”

What the…! He just about managed to not choke on his own glass of water. Sod her for playing games with him! There was no fucking way he’d let her win. “What do you fancy… for lunch?”

“Me? Just a sandwich will do,” she responded with hardly a glance in his direction as she sought something inside her bag. “A hah!” she cried out in triumph as she pulled out a notebook, showed it to him and placed it on the tablecloth. “See this, this is what I’m investigating,” she told him, turning to a specific page and turning the notebook around so that he could view it properly.

He peered at the page and the drawing on it with keen interest. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded. 

She shrugged. “You tell me! All I know is that something fishy is going on.”

“Or lizard like,” he added.

“Do they make hazard jackets that small?” she pondered mischievously.

“They had to use Velcro because they can’t do up the buttons,” he commented, and smiled the first genuine smile she had ever seen him give. 

“You should smile more often. It does things for your face. Good things… almost pleasant things,” she said as he began to slightly frown. “What?! Don’t you want people to like you?”

“I couldn’t give a fuck!” he retorted petulantly.

“So I gather,” she sighed. With a little sniff, she took on a more business-like air. Things had to be sorted out, after all, and she didn’t have much time. “Can you get any time off today or tomorrow?” she asked him.

“I don’t work Thursdays, so I’m all yours tomorrow,” he told her, hoping to get a reaction.

“Yes, but at what price,” she wondered; and then smiled her sweetest smile at him again. “So… Peter, do you have a car?”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Peter’s car was a luxuriously large American model, full of soft cream leather, and huge seats. Donna had quickly made herself comfortable in her corner. “Did you put your sun cream on?” he quizzed her.

“Yeees!” she retorted. “Here… here… and here,” she pointed out the parts on her body; giving him ample leeway to ogle her cleavage, and her long exposed legs. She obviously didn’t realise how much those Bermuda shorts rode up when she sat down. Not that he was going to tell her in a hurry.

They passed a road sign, and Donna compared it to what she had printed off from the internet site she used. “This is it!” she cried out in excitement.

“Whoop de fucking doo,” Peter commented drily. “Are you sure? This looks like a shithole.”

“You’re still not impressing me with all the swearing,” she replied evenly. “And for your information, astounding things can happen in the most unlikely places.”

“That’s just a polite way of saying this is a shithole,” he said testily,

“Maybe it is,” she agreed sarcastically. “Thank God you wear those crosses to protect us.”

He merely glared at her, and stopped the car. “Go on then, point out the aliens for me.”

“All in good time, Sunshine; all in good time,” she told him as cheerfully as she could. There was no way she was going to let this bozo upset her day. She just knew she was going to find something exciting out here. 

They both climbed out of the car and peered at the empty landscape. Donna held up the map she had and lined it up with the sun. She knew they had stopped at the right place according to the rumours on the internet, and the distant mountains lined up with the photographs someone had posted. She wandered about looking for possible clues a lot longer than Peter’s patience had held out. When he grumbled, she huffed at him, “Well go and book us into a motel or something and come back for me!”

“No way! I’m not leaving you out here on your own,” he reasoned. “It could take me days to find you again.” 

“Aw! Sweet! You care about me!” she chimed at him.

“I’m worried I’ll be accused of your murder, more like it,” he muttered back.

She was about to make a fitting caustic reply when a beaten up old vehicle appeared on the road. They watched it get closer and then stop before two men wearing hats got out and eyed them in silent scrutiny. “Excuse me?! Would you know anything about a small dinosaur-type creature?” Donna asked the two men from the pickup truck. “Apparently it has been seen running about here.”

They both smirked at the two Londoners. “Hello little lady! You’re not from round these parts,” the shorter man in the dungarees greeted her. “What’s this with you?” he asked, pointing at Peter.

Peter sighed. He could feel a possible assault coming his way, and he was nowhere near happy about it. He really should have removed that black nail varnish in hindsight, or even the eye makeup; it always gave blokes like these the wrong idea. With an unconscious gesture, he raised a hand to wipe his hair out of his eyes.

“Ooh, he’s pretty!” the other man exclaimed, sauntering over with his hands in his pockets. “Almost as pretty as you!”

“You lay one finger on him, and me and my husband will sue the backside off you!” Donna dramatically threatened them.

“Husband, eh?” The men both chuckled together at the thought. “Looks like we will have to show you what real men are like,” the taller man said, and eyed her up and down lecherously.

Peter stepped protectively in front of her. “Your girlfriend is volunteering to take your place!” the smaller man joked to Donna.

“Is your truck supposed to be on fire?” Peter asked them calmly, and pointed towards the bonnet. “There’s smoke coming out of it.”

“What?!” both of the men exclaimed; they turned and ran back towards their pickup truck in desperation.

Having suitably distracted them with a small smoke bomb, Peter grabbed hold of Donna and shoved her into the car, hardly waiting to see if she was in properly, before hitting the gas pedal; slamming her into him in the process. He immediately pulled her into him with one arm to stop her rolling about. Donna turned to see the two men still trying to put out the ‘fire’ as they sped away. “Bloody hell! What is this place? Do you get that a lot round here? It’s worse than Tottenham on a Saturday night!” Donna puffed out the words in relief.

“Fucking rednecks!” Peter replied. “Probably did that just to scare us. Hopefully…”

“Well they bloody succeeded!” Donna answered shrilly; and then she realised her predicament as they drove along. Her close, squished up, and highly compromising predicament against a very male body.

“What?! What’s the fucking matter now?” he asked her. “I rescued you, didn’t I?”

“Do you have to press yourself up so bloody close to me?!” she virtually barked at him. “I’ll be wearing those skinny jeans of yours in a moment if I’m not careful!”

“Moan moan moan! Do you ever fucking stop, woman?” he griped back. “For your information, I just stopped you being kidnapped by the local equivalent of Deliverance.”

“In that case, doesn’t that mean you are in more danger from those buggers than me?” she quizzed him.

“Erm… no. I’m saving your arse so just be grateful for once!” he practically yelled at her.

“That’s not all you’re doing to it. Could you stop prodding me with your magic wand?! Sooty wants it back,” she snapped at him in retaliation.

“Sooty?! You cheeky bitch! This is more than a toy and…” He panted against her, as rage and desire coursed through him. He so wanted to prove just how well equipped he was compared to a children’s puppet.

“Strange you should say that, because it doesn’t feel like much more than a twiglet,” she commented with as much sarcasm as she could muster. “Perhaps Ginger was right after all.”

“You’ve been talking to her!” he gasped in surprise. “When the fuck did you do that?”

“When I left your apartment the other night. She saw me leaving and came over for a chat. She _really_ does have an axe to grind against you!” she scoffed at him. “You need to get your life in order, mate.”

“And who is going to do that for me? Tell me that?” he roared back in anger… and something else. Something that he wasn’t openly admitting to himself, yet.

“Are you seriously telling me that I should organise you?! But we’ve only just met, you prat! And it certainly isn’t my place to do so,” she huffed at him. Her heart was thumping away in her chest like crazy! She could almost feel it in her mouth; and for some reason she was loving this. Never had she managed to rile a bloke so much before. It was empowering!

He almost said, “It could be.” But that would mean he wanted her in his life, on a permanent basis; and he wasn’t going to say that. Instead he merely thought it, and was disappointed in himself. Although sitting there gawping at her probably wasn’t doing him any favours either.

Despite all the yelling he hadn’t moved one inch away from prodding her body. In fact, he had prodded her a bit more; and it was sort of nice. So she moved against him slightly, just to see what he’d do. His breathing instantly hitched up a notch. Ooh, she had him exactly where she wanted him. Or should that be where he wanted her? All she was sure of in that moment was that Peter Vincent was extremely aroused, and she’d caused it. The next step was to send him a message, and not the vague ‘message in a bottle’ type of thing. She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

The response was the car swerving unsteadily for a second until he got it under control. There was nothing for it; he stopped the car and put it into park. Peter was keenly aware of her body still pressing onto him. “I… I…,” he blustered. 

“Do you now?” she said softly; so softly, as she blew her breath across his cheek and reached up to wrap her hands around to hold his head. “That must be very painful for you. What would you like me to do to help you with that?” she offered, gazing intensely into his wide-open stare, and pushing her cleavage onto his chest. Ghosting her lips next to his, she asked, “Would you like me to get things out into the open?”

There was no other way to describe it other than a raft of rampaging desire that flared through him. She was enticing him so much that he wanted her beyond his imagination. All he could sense was her as she seductively wrapped herself around him, and he was powerless to stave her off. Not that he wanted to; but if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to fight it.

He used one hand to grip her bottom quite firmly to him, and the other hand had woven itself into her long ginger tresses. Her hair flowed over his fingers like silk, and the scent of her shampoo was intoxicating. It smelt like home on so many levels. “Donna!” he burst out; unable to say much more as lust threatened to blind him.

“I know,” she whispered next to his lips. “I know.” And then she kissed him; moulding her body against his, feeling the extent of his desire as he pressed desperately towards her, and passionately returned her kiss.

There was no tenderness; just hunger, fed by arousal that demanded to be quenched. He moved over her mouth, demanding entrance with his tongue. It requested an invasion and snatched a full blown take over. She broke their embrace, to guide him, “Slower, Peter; not so fast. We have all the time in the world,”

He pushed her backwards, bracing her against the back of the car seat. “I want you! I want you now!” he stuttered out in his eagerness.

She deliberately spoke as slowly and calmly as she could. “And you will, my little hero; but we’ll get more out of this if you don’t rush things.” She released one hand from the back of his neck to smooth it down his torso in demonstration. “Slow strokes,” she told him. “See! Oh so slowly!” Her hand travelled further down, over his flat stomach, to his waistband, and then each button was unclipped before the zip was gradually pulled down. “There you are,” she said happily, caressing his aroused length gently through his boxers.

He was mesmerised by her actions, holding his breath as her hand had travelled down his body to where he desperately wanted her to touch him. He grabbed her head, forcing her to kiss him as he pushed out into her hand.

Again she slowed him down; she eased the kiss into something much more sensual, and sneaking behind the elastic of his underwear, took a firm hold of his willing body. She sucked on his tongue as she smoothed her hand along his silky skin, backwards and forwards, around and down in careful swirls. The groan she got out of him was exactly what she wanted.

He thrust his tongue further into her mouth as he fumbled with the fastening on her shorts before, finally, gaining access to her knickers and thrusting his hand down the front of them to feel her tender skin. She bucked as he did so, and griped, “There’s living flesh here, emo boy! Gently! That’s it… oh yes, that’s it.” 

He grinned as she responded to his fingers teasing her; he knew she was enjoying the way he explored her folds and sought out her clit by the way she began to squeeze him in return. Wetter and wetter she became; driving his passion on. Then she said the magic words: “Get them off!”

He obeyed without another thought, and pulled down his boxers and jeans in one go whilst she did the same with her underwear and shorts. There was a small amount of stumbling about as she shook off her garments, and then she was ready for him. “Come here,” she softly ordered him, drawing him closer as she placed herself invitingly on the yielding leather of the seat.

They lunged at each other, sharing kiss after hungry kiss. Her bare legs smoothed up his thighs and wrapped around his waist, drawing his lower body nearer. He was pressing into her stomach, and for one moment she wondered if she ought to have given him a map and a compass. So she held onto his shoulders to push her body up, and then slide down onto him.

Peter let out a strangled cry, and began to move in her. She gave out very clear demands; encouraging him with tender kisses, and discouraging him with yelps of displeasure; until finally her song was, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” 

He tried to hold on; he really did! But the whole experience was fucking marvellous, if he said so himself, and soon he was crying out in pleasure as he cum hard. “Sorry… so sorry,” he mumbled apologetically. “I couldn’t hold on.”

“I thought you wouldn’t,” she admitted. “Don’t mean I can’t use parts of you anyway.”

He was about to ask in what way, when she gripped his fingers and placed them so that she could be stroked to an orgasm. “You are fucking brilliant!” he gushed at her.

“Yes I know,” she replied, because she really did know she was good at this. She set her beady eye on him as she said, “When we get back to the motel, you are going to practise this, mister! And you will do it until you get it right.”

“Fucking brilliant!” he muttered in glee to himself as he did up his jeans and set the car into drive.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

They’d been trying to relive the moment, in some less than ideal motel room in the first decent looking place they came upon as they drove along. ‘Trying’ being the operative word, because they were getting nowhere fast.

“Donna, I don’t think I can…” Peter stuttered out hesitantly with shame.

“Shhh!” she cooed at him, placing a single finger upon his lips as she leant down towards his head. “It doesn’t matter,” she told him in an extremely soft voice. “We can try again later, when you are more up to it. I know it’s been a long day.”

“That isn’t it!” he tried to defend himself; but again she shushed him. “Donna? Can I ask... Why are you doing this? I mean, what are you getting out of it, apart from the obvious,” he asked, with an undercurrent of vulnerability that she hadn’t expected.

“You prawn! Obviously I’m hoping to get knocked up by you, have a few sprogs and sponge off you for the rest of my life,” she readily answered him, giving him a broad, mischievous grin when he looked shell-shocked. “Because I want to, you dick! We’re just mates having fun together; nothing more, nothing less.”

“But what if...,” he began to say, but she quickly hushed him up by smiling fondly.

“All in the future, Peter. Who’s to say what it will bring. For now I’m willing to be entertained by your illusions,” she soothed him; both with her words, and with her actions; rubbing her hands over his chest and shoulders. She knew all too well that sex was often a cover up for gaining intimacy for men, so she allowed him this moment between them. She also knew that the little plea of ‘would she never tell anyone about his lack of performance’ was on its sweet way too. Men, huh? She could almost love him for it.

She leant in close to his ear to whisper, “We’ll go get something to eat, and perhaps we can find some tea?” She smiled whimsically when he laughed at that. “Yes, I know; proper tea is hard to find here, but we can live in hope and you could always magic us up some.”

“I’m more likely to find us some fucking crap coffee, but you keep believing that,” he said with a grin. 

She smoothed a hand down his face in contentment, happy to see him loose his worried expression. He wasn’t the first bloke to have performance problems, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Come on, emo boy; let’s see what this place has to offer. I’m starving!” she declared.

Peter smugly smiled up at her. “I wonder why that is? Must be some fucking bloke doing that to you.”

“You never said a truer word,” she replied, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

“Do you have to watch that fucking rubbish?” Peter later grumbled good and loud when he emerged from the bathroom and Donna switched the television onto the local news. “It’s nothing but who bought the biggest bull today.”

“Stop being such a prat!” she admonished him. “I’m looking for possible alien activity.”

He glared at her then with open anger and jealousy. “Him! It always comes back down to him, doesn’t it?”

“And why shouldn’t it?” she demanded in return. “I have to go back home in a couple of days, and you’ll return to shagging your latest groupie; so what the hell difference does it make to either of us?”

“I’ll tell you what fucking difference it makes!” he cried out as he pounced on her near naked body, pinning her beneath him on the bed. “I’m right here, right now, and he fucking isn’t!”

“But he might be…,” she added quietly.

“No!” he yelled. “I brought you here, and you will…”

“What will I do?” she interrupted his tirade. “You carry on like this, Sunshine, and I’ll be out that door so fast…”

He shut her up instantly, pressing his lips down onto hers; hungrily tasting her unique flavour. He couldn’t define it, but it was oh so different to the local women. And her breasts! Oh my God; her breasts were all real, and begging to be felt by his hands. He hadn’t had much chance to earlier in the car; that moment had been all about the sex, whereas this had slipped into lovemaking with him exploring her body whilst she undulated beneath him. Obviously it helped enormously that they had already stripped down to their last piece of underwear; he had to give her points for suggesting that one. In fact she had fallen right into his hands. Literally, as it happened, and he couldn’t be more delighted.

“We have lift-off,” she murmured into his ear, gently biting his earlobe before trailing her tongue down to suckle on his throat. “Clever boy!” she rewarded him by continuing downwards.

He relished the way her hot breath moved down his body, closer and closer to where he physically strained up towards her. Her hands smoothed over his bare chest as she asked him, “Shall we release the beast?” She knew she was feeding into his ego, but she allowed him that just this one time. With a deft slick of her wrists he was freed from the constraint of his boxers, and she gained a happy groan from him as she caressed him like she had earlier by following the full length of him with gentle pressure, teasing back the foreskin.

Donna raised herself up and wiggled her bum invitingly in the air. “Oh right…,” he reminded himself. “One more obstacle to get rid of and then we can get to the real magic.”

“Hiding a rabbit somewhere on you, are you?” she cheekily asked him, as he eased down her knickers and flung them on the floor.

“I aim to be your very own fucking jack rabbit,” he told her glibly.

“I might hold you to that,” she instantly replied. “Care to give me a demonstration?”

“Oh yes!” He rolled them until Donna was on top, eager to see her body above him.

She readily complied, sinking down on him to take him deep within her. They both let out grunts of pleasure, as she held onto his shoulders to slowly rise and then sink onto him again; letting him kiss his way across her breasts before taking each nipple into his mouth. She took hold of his hand, and encouraged him to massage her clit as she continued to ride him. “That’s it, Peter. Oh yes!” she cried out.

Seeing her cum as she clenched around him was fucking sexy! He eagerly sought to make her do so once more with sensitive pressure from his thumb; but the next time pushed him over the edge with her, and he yelled good and loud as he spilled high into her. Exhausted, he fell back into the pillows.

“Don’t you go to sleep!” she warned him, giving him a hard prod in the arm with a finger. 

“Fucking women… never leave you alone,” he faintly griped. 

“Suit yourself, but I’m about to have a shower, and I suggest you do too,” she retorted.

It was only a few seconds later that he forced his eyes open. “Shower?! Ooh, I like the sound of that!” he cried and chased her into the en suite bathroom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

A strange pink light made its way across the room, waking Donna with its intensity. She squinted to see where it was coming from, and remembered the threadbare red curtains that hung up at the windows of the room. She shifted slightly to try and catch sight of the time, and then looked down at Peter’s peaceful, slumbering face.

Oh my God! Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Underneath all that manscara and guyliner he looked incredibly familiar; and now she knew exactly who he had been reminding her of all this time. Bloody hell! She had just shagged _the Doctor_!! And more than once! How on earth would she possibly look him in the face after this? If she ever found him, of course…

Peter stirred next to her, and she seriously considered making a run for it. “What are you doing? It’s too fucking early to get up yet,” he grouched sleepily at her; so she soothed him by running her fingers through his hair. He reacted like a happy puppy, beaming lazily and cuddling into her body. ‘Men! They’re the same the bloody world over,’ she smirked. He’d be mortified to know he responded in this way, so she stored it away for future blackmail.

‘Oh sod it!’ she suddenly decided. If she was going to get into trouble she might as well be hung for a sheep than a lamb. With that thought in mind, she snuggled down into his loose embrace and waited to see what might pop up in the next hour or so.


End file.
